Then, addressing those whom he loved so deeply, he said—
"Pray, and be steadfast. Suffer with patience: so will your sins be forgiven."
Their bonds were not unloosed, and Hofer was heavily chained hand and foot. Captain Renouard entered the châlet for a moment, looked around, shrugged his shoulders, saw the noted rifle standing in the corner, and brought it out.
"This is a clumsy piece, after all," said he, handing it to the gendarme, after surveying it somewhat curiously. "Take care! it's loaded!" dodging it in some alarm, as the gendarme handled it carelessly. It would have been singular if he had been shot by Hofer's rifle, after all—the rifle that Hofer would not fire in his own defence.
The word of command was given; the troops closed around the prisoners, and began to descend the mountain. Hofer trod as firmly as when the master of Innsbruck. Anna's face was smeared with tears; but she was too proud to sob, and chide Johann for crying. Rudolf's heart beat wildly. He looked on every side for Franz; but Franz, having brought the party to the verge of the hollow, had prudently decamped with Father Donay, to enjoy such peace of mind as his conscience would permit.
On approaching a village, the French band struck up a lively strain of music, which nearly drove Anna out of her senses; and with loud huzzas, they proclaimed to the people who came rushing from their cottages, that they had captured the famous "General Sanvird; le fameux Birbone." They were answered with tears, maledictions, and lamentations. Though not permitted to approach the prisoners, the villagers kept up with them, crying aloud in voices that the musicians could not drown—
"Never mind, Sandwirth! They'll bring vengeance on their own heads, Sandwirth! Keep a good heart! They won't dare to touch you! We'll never, never forget you!"
And this in every town and village through which they passed.
On reaching Meran, they were joined by the weeping Theresa. She had been seized and bound at am Sand, and the house plundered. The two little girls had escaped and taken refuge with Rudolf's mother.
The only consolation of the unhappy family was that they were together; but at Botzen they were sundered. Here they were received with more courtesy and kindness by General Baraguay d'Hilliers than had yet been accorded them. He would not triumph over a fallen foe, but received the brave and unfortunate captive with a soldier's frankness. He affected to be indignant at his chains, ordered them instantly to be struck off, and appointed him and his family a tolerably commodious prison, where they were treated with as little rigour as was consistent with their safety. Here they enjoyed the last snatch of unrestrained family intercourse they were destined to have on earth; it was embittered from many sources, but yet it had its sweetness. Their friends also had access to them; and many of the townspeople of Botzen came to express their sympathy,—of whom Hofer asked forgiveness for anything they might have to impute to him; but he was only answered by their tears. The French officers, also, did all in their power to show, by their attentions, their sense of the kindness exceeding mere humanity which he had always shown his prisoners.